


Such Sweet Sorrow

by Shiggityshwa



Series: Watch the Birdie [6]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Canon Continuation Kind of, Episode: s10e13 The Road Not Taken, F/M, Pre-the road not taken, Speculation, dark au, rewriting of season 9 to fit the alternate universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23998186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiggityshwa/pseuds/Shiggityshwa
Summary: An imagined retelling of Season 9 and 10 in the 'Road Not Taken' universe. Sixth in an ongoing series detailing what happened in the The Road Not Taken universe before Sam's arrival. Details Cameron's fall from grace and Vala's incarceration at Area 51. This story deals specifically with the Ori Supergate present in Beachhead.
Relationships: Vala Mal Doran/Cameron Mitchell
Series: Watch the Birdie [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1183454
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. The Fume of Sighs

Finally, wakes the way he’s wanted.

The scent of her shampoo—something floral, but not something he can pin down—wakes him and he tightens his arms around her, knowing she’d wake first even without the whooping cough.

She laughs and tucks her head against his chest falling back into an easy sleep and he didn’t think it would be this easy to convince her to stay with him. Knows its dangerous, could easily be reprimanded, be suspended, but he thinks a little time off wouldn’t hurt anything. He could get back into a jogging routine, maybe take her to go visit his momma, finally have a Thanksgiving a home.

What is dangerous is Lorne.

Was actually pretty close with Lorne before his plane went down over Antarctica. Trained the major until the SGC scooped him up for fast tracking and gate jumping. He’s been drinking with Lorne and had drunken conversations with him while they waited for cabs. He knows about the carnality he tries to keep buried, the violence just rippling below the surface waiting to get out. He sat and listened as Lorne complained about an ex-girlfriend who filed a restraining order against him even though he doesn’t live in that state anymore. How another fled their house in the middle of the night, taking only a bag of her belongings with her. How he set the rest of her stuff on fire.

Didn’t know how deep rooted the behavior was until Lorne rolled him into the interrogation and she squirreled back as far as she could into her chair and away from Lorne anytime he entered the room. The bruises and cuts on her arm that looked a little too fresh to be four months old. He knew and he hates himself for not doing something sooner. For not doing more.

Shifts his hand down her arm, her skin unmarred and healed of those bruises and cuts. She sighs in her sleep, the rise and fall of her chest unburdened with no wet crackles or marked skin where a bullet ripped through her.

There are no more wide eyes tracing a body in panic. 

No chains or prison wear.

Just her and him.

And he’ll be damned if anyone even tries to take her away.

*

The debriefing runs long.

It’s basically just Jackson giving an in-depth lecture about a new religion called Origin. Apparently while he and Vala were on the press tour, Jackson and Sam managed to inhabit the bodies of two people in a neighboring galaxy where the word of Origin is spreading like wildfire because if people don’t obey they’re burnt up like marshmallows.

He does appreciate a good rundown of any potential dangers, but a two-hour seminar brings him right back to high school history class.

At this point he asks a question just so there’s a break in Jackson’s speech. “So, this is dangerous because this galaxy’s got an Ori leak?”

“Well, the good news we’ve only found one case of the Ori being present in this galaxy.” Sam grins and folds her hands against the table. “We just want to stop it from spreading.”

“And you believe threatening this fellow into not threatening others will work?”

When he glances at her, Vala looks about as bored as him. Her face is a bit tired, smashed into the palm of her hand as she leans her elbow against the table.

“The plan is a little more complex than that.” Lorne interrupts before Sam can even get a syllable out. His chest all puffed out and his eyes are falling dangerously close to a glare. Should have pushed for them to transfer him onto the president’s security detail, but then he might have got into good favor with Landry and that’s a dangerous thought.

“Forgive me, but it simply sounds like a bully bullying another bully.”

“Dr. Jackson has one of the most sophisticated minds at the SGC,” Lorne jams his finger into the table to enunciate each word, “his plan is more complex than—”

“No,” Jackson interrupts, “she pretty much got it in one.”

*

It’s beyond weird wearing a spacesuit.

Even weirder helping her into a spacesuit.

“Why do I need to wear this?” Scrunches her nose as she shimmies into the heavy fabric, he’s already got most of his on, just missing the helmet. Jackson and Sam stand to the side, fully dressed, ready to go out on another SG-1 adventure because this is what they normally do, and he can’t help but feel a little jealous.

“Because there’s no atmosphere on that planet.”

“Then how is that fellow breathing down there?” Grunts as she slides her arms into the suit, flipping her hair back over his arms.

He starts zipping her up, directing her hair back over the front of her shoulders. “The Prior?”

“Yes.”

“Will of the Ori, I guess.”

“So, he’s the only one on the planet?”

“Seems that way.”

Her cheek touches the curve of her shoulder, her eyes downcast on his fingers slowly stamping her into the suit. “Then why does it bother your planet so much if he continues to be there?”

“Because he’s a threat.”

“How is a single man on an uninhabitable planet a threat.”

“Honey,” he sighs, resting his forehead against her shoulder and her lips press cool against his temple.

“I just wanted to make sure that I’m doing the right thing before I unleash the full fury of my previous host on some poor, suffocating man.”

“I think he’s not so much a threat by himself, but if others follow him—”

Her eyes trail him as he sidesteps away from her to grab the last piece of her suit. “So, you agree?”

Palms the helmet between his two hands like a basketball, staring down at the shining glass, then back up into her eyes. “Yeah—”

“Then say no more.” Her hand pets the side of his face caressing underneath his chin but drops quickly when Lorne enters the room. She keeps her grin for him though—just for him—then leans in and whispers, “I trust you.”


	2. Never Did Run Smooth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that this chapter is from Vala's POV

The presence of a Goa’uld left the Prior unphased.

She could have been more intimidating, but Dr. Jackson and Cameron were more than insistent that she keep on the heavy, bulky suit when upon the planet. It hides her aura of superiority; hides all the lovely curves her body has to offer. When she spoke to the Prior, first masquerading as Qetesh flush with power, then as herself—speaking of false deities and how they prey on naivety to do their dirty work.

When she spoke of using the threat of violence to garner compliance, a smug grin grew on his pale, jaded face, which was quite disturbing.

*

They stare at the first formation of a Supergate.

The planet exploded, the Prior along with it. Bits floating in space until falling into the vacuum of the black hole.

Pieces of the gate ring line themselves up as they all stare in shock, then in horror.

The thought must hit him similarly as her, because just as she realizes that they won’t be able to get away from what Major Carter lovingly calls the _kawoosh_ before it obliterates this ship, his hand seeks hers.

When she glances at him, his eyes glisten in regret, in the fear, not of dying, but of losing her.

Is sure her eyes portray the same fear.

Dr. Jackson calls for him and his touch wanes from her.

Major Carter bounces ideas through the air hoping one will stick like that long noodle with the balls of meat she detests. As all three lean over the console and Lorne and General Hammond shout orders to desist through some archaic communication device that won’t link through to the other galaxy, she slips away through the doors, sneaking at first, then running to the rings.

Because she has the answer.

Fairly aware that the Jaffa, not being overly eager to work with the Tau’ri again, have left a cloaked ship. Tracks the nearest smallest ship and it takes no energy at all to displace the guard and send him back to safety. Seats herself at the control panel, still warm from the Jaffa, and tries not to remember Qetesh sequestering a ship and slaughtering all those on board.

Tries not to, but remembers, and she wills her hands not to shake as she grasps at the wheel.

Her life for several billions of innocents seems a fair enough exchange after what she’s done.

Been made to do.

But she barely starts aligning the ship to take the place of the final chevron before the rings behind her burst to life.

Bites her lip because she wanted to do this without the drama, without the debate and stale logical dialogue and now she can’t even be offered that as solace.

“Vala, what the fuck—”

“It’s fair, Cameron.” Blinks back the tears and perhaps this is why she survived all that she did—not from motivation or perseverance, but to become a martyr.

“How the fuck is this fair?”

“One life for several billions is more than—”

Slams a fist down into the center console and the rickety ship sparks and shudders. “It’s not fair.”

His hands fall into strangling fists at his side and they don’t scare her, because he’s not Lorne, or Anubis, or Ba’al, or any of the other men who enjoyed her body in ways it shouldn’t have been.

When he draws her line of vision, his fingers unravel. “You don’t have to do this.”

He cries first.

Allows himself the bareness in hopes of sparing her.

The Prior’s words to her were few but spiteful.

Maliciously drooling from his mouth as he ignored Cameron, ignored the rest of SG-1, uttering words for only her demise. Perhaps the pale man could see the future, could know what was to become of her, of her love.

“Cameron.” Finds his hand, or perhaps he finds hers again as she drifts before the spot in the Supergate. “Let’s do this together.”

He cups her cheek and the sensation is refreshing, gentle, loving, removes her from the situation. All situations where she was treated poorly for a moment to just experience something as basic as love in a basic gesture.

The ship shudders and for a moment, she thinks it’s turbulence, the vacuum from the hole, but the lights flicker out as they’re fired upon once again.

“Prometheus.” Running to the window he looks back at the Tau’ri vessel. “They’re shooting at us.”

Her fingers work diligently over the control panel, flicking switches in order to maintain their atmosphere. “Tell them to stop.”

As Cameron communicates to his ship, she realizes that his fist to the center console during his outburst has damaged the cloaking mechanism has alerted the Tau’ri to a stray Jaffa vessel that looks to be aiding the Prior’s people in accessing this galaxy.

While he pleads for them to stop, the final stone takes it’s place and the Supergate formulates. This coincides with Lorne firing one final time, blowing out the control panel before her, and in the shock of electronics, or in a blast of debris to her head, she loses consciousness.

Her final thought is not of Cameron, or the way she feels in his presence, or her hope that he somehow makes it out alive, but of the Prior’s malignant words to her. 

“You’re a false profit and will be punished justly for your sins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title borrowed from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Story and chapter title borrowed from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.


End file.
